


on the grave of dreams

by Zillabird



Series: i know why the caged bird sings [2]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Child Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forced Prostitution, Human Trafficking, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape/Non-con Elements, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-11 08:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13520835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zillabird/pseuds/Zillabird
Summary: Following the forced rape, Dick and Jason are facing very different paths. Jason grows accustomed to being on the other side of the gun and deals with the emotional fallout of having to be a part of the nightmare he's been suffering for the past few years. Dick, meanwhile, is jetted off to the other side of the country and sold to a private owner. Neither of them are aware of how the other is doing but both are desperate to reach the other again, no matter the cost.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been a long time coming. If you haven't read the first part of this series, I would heavily advise going back to read part one. This isn't going to make a whole lot of sense without it. Also, WARNING - there are a lot of really, really dark themes in this series. Be aware that rape is a very constant part of Dick and Jason's lives in this fic.

“Tell us, Jason-“ An older man, maybe his late forties. No older than that. He had a gun on his hip, though, which made him one of _them_. “-do you like what you do here?”

Jason’s lip curled. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

The man arched an eyebrow. “I’m starting to see how you got all of those scars.”

“I got them from the same psychopaths you sold me to,” Jason said. “And I don’t see the point of this little fucking job interview you’ve set up.”

“How else should we determine the capabilities of the people we may consider promoting?” the man asked.

Jason looked away. “Look, just… get to the real questions. Not this bullshit about liking being a fucking whore. You know I don’t want to be a whore or I never would have made it this far into the, what, hiring process?”

The man folded his hands on the table. “Alright, Jason. A real question. Do you want to know where Richard is?”

Of course he did. “No.”

“No? From the guards’ reports, you two were very close,” the man said. He tapped the manila folder in front of him. “I have his location right here.”

Jason curled his fingers into his palms. “No.”

The man sighed softly and stood. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Jason.”

Jason’s head snapped up. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“If you’re not going to be honest, I can’t trust you,” he said. “And if you can’t be trusted here, how do you expect us to give you even a hint of power.”

Jason was on his feet before the man could take a step. “Wait.” The man crossed his arms over his chest. “What the fuck do you want me to say? Yes? Then yes. I want to know where you moved Dick.”

“Better,” the man said, but he was clearly still expecting more.

Jason curled his fingers around the edge of the table. “Dick was my best friend. He was… fuck, he was the only thing keeping me sane in here. But the key word is _was_. You took him and I know he’s not coming back. Whatever we were, it’s over. I have to take care of myself and Dick knows that. He would _want_ that for me.” A hard breath. “I want to know where he is, but I want off my back more. He would understand that.”

Jason could feel the weight of the man’s stare and he refused to cower before it. Dick’s chances, both of their chances, relied on Jason getting enough power to actually do something. The man took a seat. “I think we can really have a conversation now.”

Jason swallowed and nodded. He took his seat again as well. “Ask whatever you need to. I want to prove I can do this.”

“Good,” he said.

~~~

Dick couldn’t breathe. The asshole had him between his legs in the back of the van and when he wasn’t shoving Dick’s head down farther, the rocking of the van took what little leverage he had left. The result was that breathing was becoming all too rare.

“You almost done?” Eric asked. “We’re almost there and you know how the bosses feel about trying the merchandise.”

“It’s the last time I’m going to get him between my legs. Shut the fuck up and drive slower if it’s such a goddamn problem,” John growled. Dick could hear Eric mutter something up front but couldn’t make it out over his own gasping and John’s heavy panting over his head. John shoved his face down and Dick could feel the man’s pubic hair against his nose before the organ throbbed on his tongue and Dick had no choice but to swallow or choke on John’s semen.

He was let go and Dick pulled back with such force that he fell against the floor of the van. He rolled onto his side, each cough making his throat burn from how raw it was, and drew his legs up under him. His bound wrists pulled on his shoulders, more so when John grabbed the chain between them and pulled. “I’m going to start to think you don’t like me.”

Dick couldn’t stop from coughing again, fits as he tried to clear his throat. He glared up at John who just laughed at him. Fingers prodded under Dick’s chin, tilting his head back. “Don’t be like that, Grayson. I let you and your boy Todd have a bit of fun before you had to leave. It could have been worse. It could always be worse.”

That was a goddamn threat and Dick knew it. He lowered his eyes.

“What do you say?” John prompted.

Dick hated him with everything in him. “Thank you.” To his own ears, Dick couldn’t even recognize the sound of his own hoarse voice.

“Good boy,” John replied, letting go of Dick’s chin. He pressed the bottom of his boot against Dick’s chest and pushed lightly. Dick caught himself with his bound hands. “I’m going to miss you, Grayson.”

“Can’t say the same about you,” Dick said.

“I’ve still got your boy Todd back home,” John whispered. “Maybe I’ll have fun with him now that you’re gone.”

Dick couldn’t get enough leverage to fight against the press of John’s boot. “Bastard.”

The van came to a stop and Eric twisted in the seat. “Stop playing with your food, John. We’re here. Is he presentable?”

“He’s a whore,” John replied. “How fucking presentable does he need to be?”

John threw the door open and pulled Dick out behind him. Dick scraped his knee on the bare metal and scuffed his feet trying to get them under him. Looking around got him a view of a garage, and a plain wooden door. He got the smallest glimpse of sunlight as the garage door rumbled down and then John shoved him forward to the door. “Move, Grayson.”

Dick stood where John positioned him, listening to the lock click open for the door.

Three men stood, guns coming up. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Dropping off,” John said. He shoved Dick forward onto his knees.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that we got a message that he was heading to the auctions and now he’s your problem,” John said.

Eric kept his gun lowered but in his hand. “You didn’t get that message?”

“No,” the blonde said. He stepped forward and grabbed Dick by the hair. Dick’s neck ached when he forced him to tip his head back. “You better be right about this. We’ll get him to the auction but if I find out that you’re just passing the buck on a problem child, I’ll fucking hunt you down myself.”

“Grayson is far from a problem child,” John said. He pulled a flash drive out of his pocket and tossed it to the blonde. “I’ll consider him transferred.”

The blonde caught the flash drive and then flipped John off. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

John ruffled Dick’s hair and then left, Eric following behind him.

Dick swallowed as the blonde let go of his hair.

“Which one of them used you on the way over here?” The blonde asked. Dick didn’t speak, eyes flicking from one face to another. “Listen to me, I don’t know what you’re accustomed to but let me break this down for you. My word is law. I’m in charge of this house and the other guards obey my rules. There are fifteen whores in this house, who obey the guards. Then there is you. You are temporary and unknown, as far as I know possibly untrained. You fall at the very bottom of that pecking order. So when I ask you a question, it would be wise of you to open your mouth and tell me what I want to know. If not, I’m going to show you what being on the bottom of the pecking order means.”

Dick’s mouth was a desert and his tongue stuck to the top of his mouth. He startled when the blonde cocked the hammer of the gun. “John… John did.”

“Which one is John?”

“Shorter,” Dick said.

“Glad we could finally clear that up,” the blonde said. “My name is Miles. This is Pratt and Carlos. Pratt is going to take you upstairs with the others.”

The redhead grabbed Dick’s arm and dragged him up onto his feet. “Which room?”

“Toss him in with the girls,” Miles said. “I don’t trust the boys with him. Just look at that pretty face.”

The rules were different here. Things weren’t the way Dick had learned to live. That was scarier than being sold. Dick could mess up and not even know it.

~~~

“Congratulations,” Frank said.

Jason looked up as he pulled on the pants. Not tight to show off his ass. He got to wear a long sleeve shirt _and_ a jacket. Shoes. Jason had forgotten how good it felt just to wear a pair of shoes. “Thanks.”

“No reason to thank me,” Frank said. “You got yourself this. Moving on, that was the best move that you could have made.”

Jason bit down on his tongue. He tasted blood before he spoke. “I know.”

“You’re still thinking about Grayson,” Frank said.

Jason tensed. “I’m not. I swear to God, I’m-“

“Relax,” Frank said. “I know how the others are but you don’t have to lie to me. I’ve been you. I didn’t have a Grayson but I had my own reasons to lament over my decision.”

“And you’ve never regretted it?” Jason asked.

“No,” Frank said. No hesitation.

Jason zipped up the jacket like it was armor, like it would guard against the nightmares of hands touching him. It did made him feel a little safer, a little stronger.

It made him feel like he had a chance of getting the information he needed to find Dick and save him. And that’s all that matters.

“Good,” Jason said.

“If you’re ready, follow me,” Frank said.

Jason nodded.

“Don’t you clean up nice,” John said. Jason flipped him off and then instantly took a step back. John chuckled. “Relax, Todd. Your promotion earns you a bit of leeway. We’ve had our fun with you.”

Their fun had involved forcing Jason to rape Dick, and then dragging Dick out anyways. Jason wished they trusted him enough to give him a gun too. He’d use it to blow John’s brains out. See if he could smile that smug little smile then.

Maybe it was best that Jason didn’t have a gun yet. He’d ruin everything for petty revenge.

“What now?” Jason asked.

“Now you assist with your training wheels on,” John said.

“You’re going to do what you’re told, assist where we tell you to,” Frank said. “When we think you can be trusted, the powers that be will give you an assignment. The training wheels come off.”

Probation period. “Got it. But what does any of that mean?”

“Right now it means that you sit down and play a bit of poker. You ever play poker before, Todd?” John asked.

Eric began shuffling the cards.

Jason shook his head. “I’ve seen it played…”

“We’ll give you a lesson,” John said. “Have a seat.”

John was a terrible poker player. He wore everything on his face and if there was anything Jason had gotten good at in the time he’d spent here, it was reading people. Well, that and giving a good blow job. Frank happened to be very good at it, but knowing what Jason did that didn’t surprise him in the least.

Eric’s alarm went off on the table. “Dinner.”

John leaned back. “Frankie, why don’t you take the rookie up with you?”

Frank stood. “You just want me to leave the table because I’m taking all your money.”

“Saw right through me,” John said.

Frank motioned to Jason. “Come on.”

Jason stood and followed Frank into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and grabbed a bunch of paper bags. “We rotate chores around the house. Making meals is one of them.”

“Who makes soup?” Jason asked.

“Riley,” Frank said.

Jason had always liked the soup. “Who made dinner today?”

“Eric,” Frank said.

Jason picked up one of the bags and looked inside. Sandwiches, apple, juice box. Low effort, but still better than some of the meals he’d gotten.

“We’ll do this together,” Frank said. “You don’t leave my side. And – listen very carefully Todd, because this is important – you do _exactly_ what I tell you to do. They see a new face and they will beg you to let them out, give them something, keep them safe. You can’t give in.”

Jason’s stomach twisted. “How do you… I mean, how do I…”

“It’s you or them,” Frank said. “Keep that firmly in your mind.”

Jason didn’t care about himself, but Dick… It was them or Dick, and that Jason cared about a lot. “I understand.”

Frank pulled a keyring out of his pocket. They all looked the same to Jason, little brass keys with a single hole to keep them on the chain, but Frank seemed to know exactly which one to use. He unlocked the door and then held it open. “Dinner.”

There was a young girl, maybe twelve, and another, fifteen. They both looked up and then did a double take at the new face. Fear, first. Jason recognized that feeling, fear whenever something was new or different. Change was all too rarely a good thing.

“Todd,” Frank said. Jason swallowed and then crouched down. He set the bags just inside the door and then stepped back. Frank closed the door. “Let’s keep it moving.”

The other rooms were much of the same. Frank opened the door and Jason set the bags inside. The occupants of the rooms looked at him in fear, distrust. Jason was reminded of the boy he’d helped kidnap.

Frank unlocked the last door and Jason stilled in the doorway. One girl, blonde, and the boy. The same damn kid that Jason had helped kidnap. He looked up and then stood. “You…”

Jason winced and stepped back. “Look, I’m sorry.”

“I thought they were forcing you.” The tone was so accusatory.

“They did,” Jason said.

Tim. His name had been Tim. Tim sneered at him. “Sure looks like it.”

Frank ripped the bags from Jason’s hands and threw them on the mattress. He slammed the door shut. “Jason?”

Jason dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry to me,” Frank said. “Get your head on straight. Focus. That? Can never happen again.”

“I know,” Jason said.

Frank locked the door. He didn’t look at Jason for a long moment and then, “It could have gone worse.” Jason slid his hands into his jacket pockets. Frank slapped his shoulder. “Keep your head up, Todd.”

~~~

Dick rubbed his wrists when the handcuffs came off. Pratt unlocked the door and then held it open. “In.”

Dick hesitated but then stepped into the room. A series of high pitched gasps sounded and Dick took a step back. Things were different here. Dick missed the quiet of the room he shared with Jason. He wouldn’t get that here. There were nine girls in the room. The oldest was maybe a year younger than Dick and the youngest couldn’t have been more than ten. Ten might have been pushing it.

The bastard closed the door behind him and Dick backed up against it.

The oldest stood, a redheaded young woman. “You are not one of them.” Her voice was thickly accented. Dick didn’t recognize the location and it wasn’t really any of his business.

“One of the guards? No,” Dick said.

“No, not the guards,” she said.

“The boys,” a dark haired woman clarified. “Like us.”

“Uh, no,” Dick said. “I guess not.”

“We can tell,” the dark haired woman said. “I’m Joan. This is Kory.”

“He is a boy,” Kory said.

“But not one of them,” Joan said. “The guards let them in. For a job well done.” Her eyes lit up with anger. “You look more scared than anything else.”

Dick pulled his shoulders back. “I’m not-“

“We are too,” Joan said. “So just drop the big man act.”

“Why would one of them hurt you?” Dick asked.

“Power. Control,” Kory said.

Even for those things, Dick couldn’t imagine taking advantage of someone. He knew how that felt and it wasn’t a nightmare he ever wanted to inflict on someone else.

“Who are you?” Joan asked.

“My name is Dick,” he said. “Dick Grayson.”

“Dick Grayson,” Kory repeated.

Joan cleared her throat. “Why are you in here, Dick Grayson?”

“Apparently I am to be auctioned off,” Dick said. “And Miles didn’t trust me in with the boys.”

“They would eat you alive,” Joan said.

“Things are very different here from my house,” Dick said.

“Auction,” Kory repeated.

“Like you, Kory,” Joan said. “They’re going to sell him to one person.”

Sympathy welled up in Dick’s chest when he looked at the redhead.

Kory’s expression tightened. “Too old…for house.”

“Me too,” Dick said.

“Well,” Joan said. “I’m sorry. To both of you. But for what it’s worth, Dick? Welcome to Jump City.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy.
> 
> Warnings for.... Threats of Physical Violence, Mentions of Threats of Forced Pregnancy, Mentions of Religion, Human Trafficking, Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Forced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Rape, Graphic Depiction of Death, Dissociation, and... that's it. Guess that's enough though.

Kori and Dick were not the only two to be moved to auction, apparently. There was a boy, maybe Dick’s age, knelt down in the kitchen with a zip tie keeping his wrists pinned in the small of his back. Kori was knelt beside him, her wrists zip tied as well, and Miles was sitting at the table on the phone.

“-the back with them. Three total,” he said. “Right.”

Carlos guided Dick down on his knees and snapped his fingers. Dick put his hands behind his back and felt the plastic threaten to cut into his skin when Carlos tightened it around his wrists. “Good boy.”

“Forty five minutes,” Miles said. There was a beat and then he hung up. “Get them in the car.”

“This is bullshit.” The freckled boy beside Kori muttered it under his breath but he must not have been quiet enough. Miles walked over and slammed his fist into the boy’s cheek. His head snapped to the side and the force knocked him off his knees.

Miles picked him up by the front of his shirt and then lifted him up to look him in the face. “Do you want to repeat that a little bit louder, Cole?”

The kid licked the blood off of his lips and shook his head. His eyes were wide and Dick found himself surprised at the sympathy he felt. “No, Miles. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Then keep your goddamn mouth shut,” Miles said. “Because if I have to hear you open your mouth one more time to bitch, I’m going to drop you off short your balls. You’re not going to need those where you’re going, Cole. You’re going to be on your back with your legs spread and whatever old, fat, sleaze who buys you isn’t going to care if I’ve taken your sack. Do you understand me?”

“I understand,” Cole said, voice shaking.

“What did I _just_ tell you about speaking?” Miles demanded.

Cole’s eyes managed to widen further and he leaned back. His lips pressed together. Dick’s chest ached and he realized he was holding his breath.

Miles laughed and stood. “Better, Cole. Just remember that until we get there and you can keep what little scraps of your manhood you have left.”

Cole swallowed and nodded.

“Get them into the van,” Miles ordered. “I want to be on the road in less than ten minutes. If we hit the express way and get them dropped off before the hour, we can still make it back in time to catch the game.”

“You that excited to see your team lose, Miles?” Pratt asked.

“Get them in the goddamn van,” Miles said. “My team is gonna turn this season around. Just you watch.”

“Come on, babe,” Pratt said, pulling Kori to her feet.

Carlos grabbed Dick and they were both walked out to the van. Dick stepped in and Kori followed. He could hear her feet against the bottom of the van, flesh against metal. “You two play nice, ya hear?”

Kori muttered something that had all the markings of a swear but in a language Dick wasn’t familiar with. She slid down onto the floor and pulled her long legs up, knees pressing up to make herself seem smaller than he knew she was.

“You okay?” Dick asked.

“You think I am okay?” she asked, in that heavily accented voice of hers. It was littered with mockery. “No. I am not okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Dick said.

“There is nothing that you can do about it,” Kori said. “It is not your fault, you should not be sorry.”

“But I can empathize,” Dick said.

Kori made a face. “I am not familiar with this word.”

“Empathize,” Dick repeated. “It means that I know what you are feeling.”

“You do not know,” she said. “You are boy.”

“I know that Joan said that the boys were you have been with have been cruel but-“

“You do not know,” Kori repeated, harder. “You do not know. It is different.”

Dick fell silent.

“To be a girl here… it is different. They are cruel to all but your body does not…” Kori pursed her lips in thought and then said, “Carry.”

It took a moment and then Dick’s expression tightened. “Are you? Or, I mean… did you?”

“No,” Kori said. “But you will not know that fear. It is different. You do not understand. Your pain is different. I am not sorry for you. I am not sorry for me. Leave the sorry to them.” She motioned with her chin towards the house. “For myself there is only rage.”

“I’m…” Dick trailed off, at a loss for words. “I hope you get out of this one day.”

“I hope the same for you,” she replied.

“I will,” Dick said. “There is someone… I have to get out. I have to find someone and help them.”

Kori’s legs stretched out and she let her head fall back against the side of the van. Red, tangled hair fell in front of her face. She blew the strand away. “Good luck, Richard Grayson.”

“Good luck, Kori,” Dick whispered.

The doors opened and Cole was pushed into the van. He stepped in, looking between Kory and Dick before moving to take a seat beside Kory. Dick watched her tense and then twist, spitting upon the boy’s cheek. He made a face and tried to wipe it off on the dirty t-shirt. “Hey!”

“Find a different place to sit. You will not sit beside me,” Kory said.

Cole made a face and then shifted down some, away from the girl.

From the front, the car started and Miles turned around to face them. “Keep your hands to yourself, boys and girls. We’re going for a ride. I don’t want to hear a peep out of a single one of you. I am not in the mood for your shit.”

When silence was their only response, Miles nodded and turned around. Pratt pulled the van out of the garage.

Dick fell into a sort of half sleep during the course of the ride. His eyes were closed, his senses awake to listen – but his mind wandered to memories of a ratty mattress and the warm presence of a body beside him to whisper about the wonderful things they’d experience when they were free. Dick could still hear Jason’s voice and he held onto that with both hands because if he ever reached the day when he couldn’t remember what he sounded like – the world would become a much lonelier place.

The light coming in through the windshield dimmed suddenly and Dick blinked to full consciousness and looked around. They had pulled into another garage, it appeared. Somewhere darker, at least. The van shut off and Miles turned around. “We’re here and we made good time, which means I make it to my game as long as no one gets stupid right now. Capiche?”

A chorus of nods were his only response. Miles motioned to Pratt and both men got out of the van. The back doors open and Miles snapped his fingers. “On your feet. Let’s get a move on.”

Dick looked around. There were other vans down here, and one that had the words – ST. MARIA CHURCH OF OUR LORD – written on the side.

“Are we in a church?” Dick asked.

Miles snorted. “Universe has a sick sense of irony.”

Dick followed the others up a short set of stairs. The door opened, a man dressed similarly to Miles standing at the top. Dick’s eyes went to the gun at his hip and then up to his face. He had a unique pale shade of green eyes.

“You got their numbers?” he asked.

Miles held his hand out to Pratt who reached into the bag on his shoulder and pulled out three files. Dick recognized them as looking just like the file that John had given Miles about Dick.

The man flipped through and scanned the barcodes in each on a little handheld device. “Take them in. You know where you’re going?”

“We’re the closest house in the district. I make this trip a lot,” Miles said. “We’ve got this.”

The man shrugged and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. Behind them, Dick twisted in time to see another van pull in and four more restrained young men and women get out of it. Dick was prodded along, down a red carpeted hall past artistic renditions of the rebirth of Jesus Christ.

At the end of the hall, two men stood. The one on the left of the door was in the same cargo pants and black shirt. Gun at his hip. Beside him was another of those handheld devices and at his feet was a banker box filled with manila files like the ones in Pratt’s hand. “Files on the chair.”

Pratt tossed them there. One nearly slid off the back.

The other man was different. He looked shaky, nervous. He had a severe receding hairline and was dressed in a cassock. When Dick and the other two were close enough, he asked quietly, “May I?”

Dick didn’t realize until the man looked at Miles and then back to Dick that the question had been directed at him, Kori, and Cole. “May you what?”

“Bless you,” the man said.

Dick was stunned silent. “Excuse me?”

“I would like to bless you,” the man said. “I am the Priest here. I wish to offer you the blessing of St. Maria Goretti.”

“Whatever you want, old man,” Cole muttered. “We can use all the blessings we can get.”

Dick didn’t speak as the man prayed but when he stopped, Dick asked, “What is she the patron of?”

“You,” he said simply.

“You’re on your own, you three,” Miles said. “Try not to get into any trouble. Don’t want anyone thinking we didn’t get you housebroken.”

The door opened and a gun was aimed at them. “In.”

Dick obeyed, leaving the priest and the guards at the door. Inside, another hallway which led down to a large room where several guards stepped between men and woman as young as Dick but as old as their late twenties.

“What are their numbers?” A short haired woman stepped up beside Dick, a strong scented marker in hand. As numbers were rattled off she roughly shoved Dick’s shirt down to bare his shoulder and wrote the number down on his skin. Following that, another number. This one much smaller and, estimating by the number of people in the room, Dick surmised was likely the order in which they had arrived. They were knelt down on the floor, maybe fifteen restrained men and women in total.

One or two were crying. Dick could honestly say he didn’t feel any desire to shed a tear. But someone did, someone near. Dick turned and he frowned when Cole sniffled beside him and a single tear rolled down his cheek. “This is bullshit, man.”

Bullshit. Yeah.

“Keep it down!” One of the guards barked at the room.

Dick sat on his heels and looked over the crowd as the next four were led in. There were thirty people in the room at capacity and Dick’s feet were asleep from his weight on them. The door had been locked and closed for the past thirty minutes and Dick was sore from holding this position for so long.

The thought got as far as the front of his mind before the door on the other side of the room opened and a new woman stepped in. She was followed by two men, keeping in step and listening to her speak.

“I want the middle ten on the block first, top ten on the block second, and bottom ten on the block last. After the twentieth, some will start to leave and I want to get as much as we can from this group. Do we have the listing?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” the man in the suit said. He straightened his red tie, laying it flat against his chest.

“Then get it ready,” she said. He stepped away, grabbing one of the guards. To the other man, she narrowed her gaze. “As soon as they get them together, get the middle ten cleaned up and prepared. While they’re on the block, get the top ten ready. Prove to me you’re worth this job.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said.

He too walked off and the woman stood in the center of the room. She was pretty, if severe looking. Dark hair and tanned skin. Her eyes looked over the group, passing over Dick only to come back around. She stepped over and Dick leaned back as she reached out and stroked a hand through his hair. “You’ll be in our middle group I’m sure.”

“What does that mean?” Dick asked.

“It means that I’m tempted to make it a group of nine,” she said. Her grip in his hair tightened when he tried to lean away again. Instead he froze. “You’re very pretty.”

“Miss Flores?”

She let go and turned. “What is it?”

“Can you look this over please?”

She sighed and Dick listened to the click of her heels against the floor as she walked away. He let out a breath and his shoulders drooped with relief.

“Are you okay?” Kori asked.

Dick snorted. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Okay as can be,” Kori amended.

“I’m okay,” Dick affirmed.

“Get up, kid,” the guard barked. He stepped over and dragged Cole up on his feet. Cole only cried harder as they walked him away.

One by one, the room started clearing out. It stopped when there were twenty of them left.

“I am not ready,” Kori said.

“I don’t think there is any way to be,” Dick said.

A guard came up. His finger hooked in Dick’s collar and pulled down to bare the numbers. “Stand up.”

Dick struggled without his hands for leverage but managed to get to his feet to follow out of the room. The bathroom he was led into had a pile of clothes in the corner, soap and towels on the sink. The zip tie around his wrists was cut and the plastic tie disposed of. “Strip.”

Dick rubbed his wrists and then pulled his clothes off. It was familiar to strip in front of strangers, relieving almost in the way that Dick could fall back on his usual routine and dispose of the clothes.

“Use the restroom if you need to. Wash up. Brush your teeth,” the man ordered.

Dick obeyed without question. The taste of mint in his mouth felt good after a few days without access to toothpaste. Miles said he’d get cleaned up at the auction. Guess he’d been right.

“You’re not going to be restrained but if you make a stupid choice, you’re going to get shot,” the man said. “You understand me?”

Dick nodded. “Yeah, I understand.”

“Out,” the man said, jerking his chin over to the door.

Dick stepped out. The hallway felt a bit cold against Dick’s bare skin.

“Down the hall,” a guard ordered.

Orders guided him down the hallways until he saw four others already there and waiting outside a door. A guard pushed him to stand in line behind the others.

Dick waited until the guard stepped away to whisper to the blonde haired young man in front of him. “What’s going on?”

“Your ass is about to be auctioned off,” the blonde replied.

“I know,” Dick said. “What is this? Right now?”

“You’re standing outside the room. You’re five people from going up on the block,” he said. He motioned to the three in front of him and the next person coming down the hall. “Four now. We go up ten at a time.”

“Have you done this before?” Dick asked.

“Twice,” he replied. “This will be lucky number three. A lot of them are second timers.”

Dick blew out a breath. “I figured once you were bought…”

“They still get tired of you. Realize they want something different,” he said. “If you find one that’s good, just do your best to keep them happy. Because let me assure you, not all of them are good.”

The blonde turned around and Dick’s eyes landed on the back of his neck, the shiny skin there scarred with a brand.

Dick closed his eyes. Christ, he missed Jason. He missed him with every fiber of his being. Even after their last night together, being held down by Jason had started to become a regular nightmare, Dick longed for Jason’s arms around him.

“Hey!”

Dick’s eyes snapped open when one of the guards shouted. He and the rest of the line turned to look behind them. A woman about Dick’s age, maybe a year or two older.

“Don’t do it,” the blonde muttered under his breath.

She took a step back and the guard shouted again. “Hey! Get back here.”

The woman turned around and ran for the exit.

“Wait!” the blonde shouted.

It was too late. The explosion of the gunshot was deafening and then red splattered all over the walls. Dick watched her crumple to the floor.

“Fucking bitch,” the guard said, sliding the gun back into his holster.

Blood on the walls dripped down the white paint and right down onto the floor. Another puddle spread out from around the girl.

“Stupid,” he muttered from in front of Dick. “So goddamn stupid. What was the point of that?”

“A chance at freedom?” Dick suggested, voice hoarse. He didn’t take his eyes off the girl on the floor.

“Does she look free to you?” he demanded. “No. She’s just dead.”

The rest of the time spent in the hallway was hazy – a blur with a rhythm of his rapid beating heart and tinged with the color of blood. He felt numbness spread from his chest to the tips of his fingers.

Someone shook his arm roughly and Dick looked up to the blonde. “You okay, Blue Eyes? We’re moving. You need to get your head in the game.”

Dick cleared his throat, blinking away the memory of blood splattering on the wall. “I’m fine.”

“Good. Walk behind me,” the blonde said.

Dick followed him as they were corralled through the door. The lights were up and the seating was dark. Dick could sort of make out humanoid shapes sitting in the pews but nothing beyond that. That was probably the point. Guards were guards, they were expendable at the end of the day. But these people had money, and it wasn’t smart to risk the money coming in.

Faintly, Dick heard the auction start but Dick zoned out for that. Stared at the back wall and the darkness there – wondered what Jason was doing, _how_ he was doing.

“Sold!”

A guard came and collected the blonde beside him. Dick took a breath knowing that he was next and then focused harder on the back wall. He ignored the numbers, the shouting, the people lifting their hands to place bids on his body. He focused on his memories of Jason and, when that didn’t work, imagined taking Jason home to see Mom and Dad.

It was a fantasy, it would never happen. Mom and Dad were dead and Dick had never even gotten the chance to see their gravestones. But Mom would have loved Jason. Dick just _knew_ that. Jason would have blushed that cute pink in his cheeks. Mom would have cooked them both a home cooked meal. Dick desperately wished he could taste a real, honest to god home cooked meal again.

“Sold!”

Dick was dragged back into the moment just as a guard came to walk him off to the side. He looked back, catching the glimpse of bright red long hair that he recognized as Kori’s and hoping that she would find herself in the graces of someone kinder.

“Sit.” A pile of clothes, balled up, was shoved into his chest. “Put these on.”

Dick stood and pulled the clothes apart. They were a step more expensive than the clothes Dick had been wearing at the house. Those had appeared to be thrift shop, ill fitting. These looked more his size and might have been bought at a Wal-Mart. He pulled them on in time for a man to step into the room.

Dick wasn’t short by any means, but the new guy towered over him and each of the guards in the room easily. Towered over them and dwarfed them in size. Without a doubt, Dick was sure that the newcomer could break him in half with a tight squeeze.

“Follow me,” he said.

Dick obeyed, more on instinct than anything else. Hell, if he’d had any control over his own actions at this point he’d have bolted at the sight of a man looking like this. Eye patch, scarred. Dick didn’t feel confident that he had gotten one of the good ones – as the blonde guy in front of him had referred to.

The blonde guy… Dick hadn’t even learned his name.

“Name,” he ordered.

“Dick,” he replied. “Richard, but I go by Dick.”

The man stopped in the hallway and Dick very narrowly avoided running into his back. He turned. “You call yourself Dick?”

Dick let out a soft breath. “My parents were immigrants and we didn’t have roots anywhere. They didn’t know about the slang until I was too old to change it.”

The man huffed and then put his hand on Dick’s shoulder, pushing him in front of him and then barking another order with a point of his finger. “That room.”

The room in question was an office. There was a bible on the desk, a few in the bookshelves along with some other religious books. A cross on the wall.

“Sort of twisted to hold this in a church,” he said. He flicked the cross on the wall and it swung back and forth. “Richard, my name is Slade. Some of these men will prescribe to the Master and Slave fantasy. I am not one of them. You can call me Slade, or sir if it’s more comfortable. I don’t honestly care. As long as you can follow instructions, we’ll get along fine.”

Dick nodded, once.

“I prefer vocal responses,” Slade corrected.

“Yes, Slade,” Dick parroted.

Slade seemed to take note of Dick’s choice, using his name instead. He’d given permission but this choice still seemed to make Slade’s lips quirk. “You’re already doing well.” It wasn’t a question, so Dick didn’t speak. “I know this is hard, Richard.”

Dick doubted that Slade had any idea what this felt like.

“But it doesn’t have to be painful. I’m not sadistic or cruel. I just expect obedience,” Slade said. “You could have a lot of freedom if you can prove you can be trusted with it.”

Dick lowered his eyes, hiding the hope there. Freedoms meant a chance to run, a chance to help Jason.

“Do you understand me, Richard?” Slade pressed.

Dick looked up and nodded. “Yes, Slade.”


End file.
